Melbourne winter is mild, not all that cold really and not beset with fog, and my friends laud clear-sky, crisp days, but I’ve always hated the three months of dreary cold. Chilblains, that’s what I endure. Over the past half decade, I’ve managed to find a way to spend at least a strategic fortnight in warmer climes, but not this year.
The most challenging aspect of winter for this writer is rising early into the pit of chilliness, and then jogging in the dark with multiple layers. Oftentimes I succumb to sleeping in.
But I’ve decided that my June tardiness cannot be sustained. I’m psyching myself up. For I know that if I can rise early, if I can attack the cold with exercise, I’ll burn with righteous energy (“take that, damned single degrees”) that conquers the winter day. Today I managed to rise at 6 AM. Let’s do better tomorrow, eh?